


You're My Home

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Beards (Relationships), CAN YOU BELIEVE, I actually miss eleanor, I'm extra louis today, M/M, Sad Harry, Sad Louis, actual shitspouting after babygate, anyway almost 3K of sadness and angst, bangladesh jambalaya, brinini panini no, ffs like, honestly I'm so done with the girl what's her name, just bc he's smol, louis is my smol child okay, pls, protect him at all costs, v v v v v v v v v v v smol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 18:27:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5712574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is a good person; everyone knows that. But with all these rumors, all these fake girlfriends, and of course the fucking baby, he's crushed. He's protected Harry since the beginning, but who protected him? </p><p>or,</p><p>Louis is fading, and Harry just wants him to be okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're My Home

The club’s lights flash around him, and he feels like the world is tipping. Someone shouts next to his ear, and he flinches, backing away, only to bump into someone else.  
What happened to the Louis five years ago? The dramatic, loud, obnoxious Louis, who refused to accept parties as a social gathering, because they’re slobby. It’s a bunch of messed up guys, in a messed up place, getting even more messed up with messed up drinks.  
It fits him now, he supposes.

“You alright, Lou?” Liam- and oh, that’s who he bumped into- asks worriedly, hands on his shoulders. “M’fine.” he mumbles, and he hates it because that was _Harry’s_ nickname for him. He hates it, he absolutely despises, that everything he and Harry shared, is gone. Their nicknames for each other just became nicknames that just anyone uses. Their secret smiles, now diminished to trying so hard to avoid eye contact in front of anyone’s view. He feels so useless, and that’s saying a lot because he can rightly say he’s tried, so _damn_ hard, and yet here he is, having to watch Harry go on outings with all these women, when all he wants to do is get him out of this mess.

He finds himself tearing away from Liam’s pitying eyes, and _god_ does he hate being pitied, and stumbling toward the bar. Nineteen year old Louis was naive; he knows that now. He remembers Harry’s face falling, his eyes looking completely crushed, when they were told that they couldn’t be together, that they had to hide everything, and for some stupid reason like, “Negative audiences” and “Decreased sales”. He remembers seeing how panicked Harry has seemed, how young and innocent and _scared_ he had been. He remembers standing up, and shouting, telling them that he'll so the stunts if he has to, just to keep Harry safe. He remembers feeling like he could do anything, like their love could conquer anything, just in that moment. He remembers telling Harry, “ _It’s okay. We’re going to be okay. I’m going to be strong for both of us, Hazza. It’s okay._ ”

A good load of shit that did.  
He had taken a lot of the burden, true, but Harry didn’t have it much easier anyway. Louis was muddled with all the long term girlfriends, the constant pressure of “ _When are you going to propose, Louis? How much do you love her, Louis?_ ”  
And he hasn’t forgotten the fucking baby either. He nearly lost it right then and there, when the management people had told him. How irresponsible would he have to be, to get some random bird pregnant, and then just ditch her for another? He had shed a few tears, all the boys reminding him how kind and nice he is, and how much the fans love him, and he had felt so pathetic.  
Where was the boldness of young Louis? The one that vowed to protect his love, his light, his life? Where was the confidence of “ _It’s okay_ ”?  
That Louis would look at him now and sneer. He would say, “ _And what have you done? Are you even trying?_ ”

A colorful shot is placed in front of him, and he grabs it, knuckles going white when he grabs the edge of the table with his other hand.  
Especially now, he was feeling strained. Harry’s birthday, Danielle’s birthday, and the fucking baby’s due date is all set to be in the same week. Of course, over anything, he would choose to be with Harry. He would pamper him for an entire week, wake up to his curls tickling the crook of his neck, the sound of him humming in the shower, come home to dinner on the table and a quick snog. He would prepare his presents months in advance, too. Flowers, sweets, songs, kisses, he was going to give him _everything_ , and now here he is, in a godforsaken _club_ , with Liam here to keep an eye on him. He just feels so close to the end of the rope, the last step from the edge of a cliff, and he doesn’t know what to do.

He feels hot tears prickle his eyes and blinks hurriedly, trying to stop them. “Louis,” a hand, probably Liam’s, touches his shoulder. “That’s enough for tonight.”  
Instead of listening, which would have been best, he takes a shuddering breath, and tips his head back, bringing the glass to his lips. The alcohol burns going down, and he takes a hiccuping breath as Liam pulls him off the chair. “Come on,” Liam leads him out the door and into the van waiting for them. “No more.” They settle into the seats, and Louis leans his head onto Liam’s shoulder as the car shifts forward. A hand caresses his cheek, and it's all wrong. Liam's hand is too rough, and too stubby, and too _not Harry._

“I just-” Louis breathes out, stopping to shudder in the cold, “I just wanna go _home_ , Liam.” 

He’s not awake to feel Liam take a deep breath and gently pet his hair the entire way back to his flat, and he’s not awake to hear Liam talking urgently on the phone.

…

“ _Harry? Your boy needs you_.”

Harry's heart nearly stops at those words. Liam was calling him at 2 a.m. in the middle of the night, to tell him that his boy, _his_ Louis, needs him.  
He doesn’t think he’s ever driven faster in his entire life, even including the time that Louis had fallen ill and the other boys had forgotten to explain to him that by "ill", they meant he had a cold, and nearly had a heart attack running into his flat and seeing Louis looking dead on the couch. Sleeping and seeming dead looks similar, he supposes.

He parks messily in the parking space, and rushes into the flat, seeing Liam sitting on the couch with sleepy eyes and a steaming mug in his hands. He looks up when the door clicks shut, and smiles tiredly at him. “Hi.” Liam says, standing up and walking toward Harry who looks a little frantic. “Is everything alright?” he asks, eyebrows and forehead scrunching in the way they do when he’s concerned. “Yeah,” Liam huffs out, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “Got a little carried away with the drinking and… well, you know how he is.” And he does.  
Louis has a terrible, terrible habit of brushing things off with a smile and a shrug, getting tighter and wound up as things pile up on his shoulders. When he snaps, he usually gets like this; not that he has a drinking problem, but that he ends up keeping it locked in for himself to deal with.

“Can I?” he nods towards the hallway leading to the bedrooms, and feels ridiculous for asking if he can go see him. It's not like anyone's going to say, _"No Harold, you're not allowed to even do so much as see your own soulmate."_ He stops there, at the word  _soulmate_ , because that's exactly what it is, and the sarcastic voice in his head somehow always manages to sound like Louis.  
“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Liam shuffles over, grabbing his keys from the counter and patting his pockets for his belongings. “I’m gonna head home if you don’t mind.” Harry nods blindly, and Liam says a quick goodbye before the door clicks shut again.  
He takes a deep breath, and sets his things on the coffee table, taking his coat off and hanging it off a chair, before making his way towards Louis’s bedroom.

He slowly cracks the door open, and sees that the curtains are drawn, and the entire room is pitch black. His heart breaks a little at that, because Louis loved sleeping with the moonlight shining on him, and waking up to a bright sky. He closes the door behind him, and seeing that Liam had kindly changed Louis into comfortable clothes, he walks into the closet to change. There’s a drawer for him, the top right one, just like there’s a drawer for Louis at his flat. He smiles fondly when he notices that in so many ways, they’ve managed to wedge themselves into each other’s lives. He decides that he’s too tired for a shower, and changes into some sweats and a tee before joining Louis in the bed. Louis is sleeping soundly, his little hands under his cheek, looking even smaller and daintier in Harry’s sweater. His cheeks seem sunken in, and there are visible bags under his eyes. Harry reaches out a hand and cards it through his soft hair, smiling as Louis snuggles up into it in his sleep. This is how it should be, he thinks, them together in one bed at night, knowing that when they wake up, the other will be there.

Harry pulls Louis closer, hugging him close to his chest, wishing he could just fit him right there, where his heart beats, and keep him safe and protected forever.  
He’s always known what it felt like to be loved, with his strong mum, loving sister, the boys, of course, but most of all; Louis. He remembers feeling so attacked when they were told that they couldn’t be together, but feeling so loved when Louis stood up and took the challenge. Every bullet Louis took for him, every battle he fought for him, made him realize how much he loved him- not that he ever doubted Louis’s love for him, because he knows with all his heart that Louis would do anything to make him happy. He remembers the bright, energetic, bubbly fire that used to be Louis Tomlinson, now simmered down into this half dead, faded mark on a magazine. He absolutely despises what it all made the man he loved become.

Where was the Louis he fell in love with, and is still falling for now? The funny, annoying, endearing, childish, cheeky boy that “curly” had looked up to?  
There was a time during his and Taylor’s fake relationship where Harry had broken down and cried to him, about how he feels so demoralized, and Louis had held him as he cried, kissed his tears away, and smiled for him. He had told him it’ll be okay, and that he loves him. Now, nearly ten times worse was happening to Louis. Harry knows he wouldn’t be the kind of person to be irresponsible and get someone pregnant, only to desert them for other flings and wild nights. He knows he isn’t the one to trash hotel rooms, or use his money as an advantage, or be some bad boy who parties excessively.  
He knows Louis loves children. His sisters, all those kids at the hospitals they visited who immediately were drawn to him, the " _even as young as you are?"_ , and of course, little Lux, whom they basically raised together.

The Louis he knows and loves, is the boy that stood up to countless people above him, risking his dream, just so Harry could be happy. It’s the prince to all the little girls he’s saved, the peter pan to all the children he’s been the hope for, the rope to his anchor, the dagger to his rose, the Oops to his Hi, the compass to his ship; always _always_ leading him. He was _home_ to him, and now here he is, looking so lost and so tired of everything.  
He thinks back and wonders; how come he’s never seen Louis break down before?  
Harry has cried in front of him many times. He was always there with open arms and loving kisses. He was there when Harry first read all those hate comments. He was there when Harry first heard all those womanizer rumors. He was there for him, always.

When Louis had to just watch as Harry faced obstacle after obstacle, he had gritted his teeth and soldiered on. When he took on the responsibilities of all the major fake relationships, he had smiled and kept going. When he was given the mask of a bad father and a horrible role model, he never gave up. That was Louis. He was always there for him, and Harry was always there for him too, but he never ended up needing him. He was the one to stay strong and be grounded for the both of them.

He stops and realizes, what if this, right now, is Louis breaking?

Liam usually breaks down by having a long talk and a good cry. Niall just keeps to himself and he works things out better on his own. Zayn had been the type to let it out through his passions, whether it be music, or art. Harry was he one to cry and let go and get it all out. But Louis?  
What if this is it for him? What if he keeps fading away, keeps treading on, until he loses the happy glint in his eyes, the crinkles when he smiles, the soft, fond smiles he saves just for him- what if by the time he notices that Louis just isn’t the same anymore, he’ll already be gone?

The mere thought of Louis, the most brilliant, vibrant one out of all of them, slowly decaying into a dead spirit just makes tears well up as his vision goes blurry, and he pulls the covers over them in an attempt to block out the rest of the world.  
He breathes into his neck, feeling content with having him right there in his arms, and realizes he’s been crying when Louis stirs and whispers, “Why are you crying? My pretty Hazza baby. Don’t cry.”  
His speech is still a bit slurred, but he must’ve brushed his teeth because he tastes minty when Harry presses his lips onto his. It’s awkward in the position they’re in, and wet from all the tears because for some reason, Louis had started crying, too.

Harry pulls back and bumps their foreheads together, reaching up to wipe at their cheeks. Louis sniffles, and buries his face into Harry’s chest. It’s so quiet that he nearly misses it, but he feels his heart shatter into a million little pieces when Louis mumbles into his shirt, “ _I love you so much, Harry. So much_.”

He squeezes him even closer into his arms, noticing how small and fragile and pliant he is. Louis is still muttering incoherent “I love you”’s into his chest that he can barely hear over him heaving breaths between each word. He closes his eyes when he feels a fresh wave of tears as Louis starts crying out apologies, and- and _fuck,_ why is he apologizing? He has a right to cry, a right to scream and kick and let go. Why is he apologizing?   
Harry shakes his head in disbelief, and leans down to whisper into his hair,  
_“I love you too, Louis. So, so much_.”

They might be broken, they might be crying, and they might be hopeless; but right there, clutched tight and silent to the world, it was okay. Because whatever happened, they won't ever be alone.   
In that moment, with the curtains drawn shut, the lights all off,  the doors all closed, peaceful and together under the blankets, _here_ , they think, could be home.

 

_**You'll never feel like you're alone,** _

_**I'll make this feel like Home.** _

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Honestly, I'm a Louis stan and seeing how bad the press is making him out to be broke my heart. So here it is in their perspective.
> 
> come say hello!   
> tumber: leoluminosity


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